Out to Take a Pee
It’s 3 am or so I guess. We’re in the middle of nowhere, 5000 feet up. I come out of a fitful sleep. I have to pee. I don’t want to know this – have tried to push the urge away for some time now. But I can’t ignore it. With a sigh I unzip my down sleeping bag. Clad in wool socks and my maroon, flowered, long-sleeved satin pj’s (that I only wear on the coldest nights, or when I’m sick, or when we’re camping) I crawl out of the bag, grab the flashlight plus a handful of TP and inch my way to the front of the two-person nylon tent. I try to be very, very quiet. I unzip the screen flap. I unzip the outer flap. There is no way to unzip quietly, so I do it as quickly as I can to minimize the amount of time the high-pitched zzziiiippppps break the silence of this wilderness campsite. Ken sleeps on.
I flip myself out the opening and quickly rezip the flaps. I try to stand. I’m dizzy. Sleeping on the ground makes me dizzy. Standing takes a few seconds. I need to get my balance. I hold lightly onto the tent frame. My foot searches for the moccasins I’ve stashed nearby. I must get my feet into the moccasins without falling over and pulling the tent with me. I steady myself. I take a wobbly step. I take another.
Off to the trees I go - not far, maybe twenty-five feet at the most. My flashlight is on and I just want to get this over with. I find a spot, pull down my pajamas and squat. I’m an excellent squatter and I’m coming awake. I’m used to this. I’m steady, focused, unafraid and intent on finishing this up so that I can get back into my warm down cocoon. I pee. I’ve been peeing for 60 plus years now. I know how to pee. I know how to pee outside.
It is cold. It is extremely quiet. There is no sound. Not a bird, not a bug, not a night critter, not a breeze. I look up from the ground and oh my god. Oh my God, can I tell even begin to tell you what I see? I see stars. Big bright sparkling stars…. a zillion of them …. a kazillion – zillion of them. They are crowding each other. They are bumping each other. They are immense and blindingly brilliant. And, they ….. are ……. EVERYWHERE! They surround me on all sides. Wherever I look, through every tree they are there. Never have I experienced this all-encompassing vault-effect of glorious, uncountable, indescribable splendor. I am stunned. I am beamed-upon. I am baptized, resurrected and enveloped by beauty. I finish peeing and I cannot move. Don’t want to move. Don’t care about the cold. No longer crave my sleeping bag or a return to slumber. I only want this blessing. I only want this knowing that everything is alright. Only want this certainty that nothing is wrong. Nothing is incorrect. Nothing is out of order. Nothing is off track or amiss in any way.
I eventually come back to earth. I use my TP and pull up my drawers. I stand and say thank you, thank you, thank you. There’s a lump in my throat, tears in my eyes. I am awake. I am changed. I stumble back to the tent, to my spouse, to my sleeping bag, to my rest, to my a-ok life.
I thought I was getting up to pee…..